


A butterscotch flavoured nightmare

by HeyFinlee



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Everyone around them sees it; they just wish those two would get it together, F/F, Hockey, Mutual Pining, Summer, They're idiots in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25303558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyFinlee/pseuds/HeyFinlee
Summary: “It’s nothing,” Adora chuckles, trailing off. It’s nothing she thinks, I just want to lay down beside you. It’s nothing, I just want to kiss the tension from your face. It’s nothing, I just want to taste the raspberry slushy on your lips. “Just wondering if you’re cold.”It’s a lie- A boldfaced one in the sticky July heat. Adora picks at a hole in the sleeve of her shirt and toys with the loose threads. It’s uncomfortable, the air is so thick that it's hard to breathe, and the mugginess rests square on Adora’s shoulders as she flushes pink. She looks away from Catra before she says something she’ll regret.Story title and chapter names from Georgia Marley's album Yearning.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Side Scorfuma uwu, and Implied Glimbow in later chapters
Kudos: 31





	A butterscotch flavoured nightmare

It starts, as these things often do, at a party. Adora is fresh off a win, laughing as Scorpa describes the blond guy on the other team flailing his arms as he ran up and down the court. She’s never been good at parties and the thick humidity makes it hard for Adora to focus on the small talk. She gets worried, sometimes, that she’s talking too much, being too much. She excuses herself, skirting to the edge of her friend group and out the back door. 

Perfuma’s house has an expansive back garden. Adora helped her with it a few months ago, she needed the almighty “She-Ra” and Scorpia to help her lift some potted plants behind the pond. Adora thinks Perfuma just wanted to look at their muscles. 

Sipping the cheap college beer handed to her when she arrived, Adora grimaces. She swirls the drink inside the sweating bottle, and considers tipping the liquid abomination into a flowering plant nearby. She only decides against it because she’s worried the drink might be so toxic it might kill the bush. 

“Hey, Adora, you gonna finish that?” 

Adora whips her eyes away from the bottle and finds Catra leaning against the wood-paneled house. She raises her eyebrows as she puts a lit smoke to her lips and inhales. Adora stares for a moment, then glances back to the beer she holds in her hand. 

“It’s warm.” she says, wiping some of the condensation from the glass, “And it’s a bad beer.”  
  
Catra snorts, her cigarette almost slipping from her lips. She shifts against the wall and grins cheekily, exhaling smoke like a dragon staring at treasure. “All beer is bad, Princess,” She informs the blonde, holding her hand out towards her, “Now gimme.” 

Adora considers the gesture and shrugs, hyper aware of the way their hands brush as she passes the drink over. For just a moment, their eyes connect and Adora’s glad to have a reason to touch Catra. And then she remembers she’s trying to calm down with that, because Catra’s stopped reaching out for her when they watch movies, stopped resting her head on Adora’s shoulder as she cooks eggs, stopped bumping their knees together under the table. 

“Let go,” The corners of Catra’s mouth tip upwards and she leans further into Adora’s space. She plucks the beer fully from Adora’s hand and says, haughtily into the small space between them, “Thanks, Adora.” 

“Oh,” Adora sighs out dumbly, breath shaky as she puts two steps of distance between them. “I was _going to_ ,” she whines, convincing no one. 

Catra talks Adora into ditching the party to get a slushy. Scorpia waves them off, thanking her for visiting the _“Super Pal Trio bonanza”_ even for a few short hours. Catra gets a red slushie and a pack of butterscotch candy like she always does. As they walk through the night Adora glances at her friend.

A thought crosses Adora’s mind; Catra is a night owl. The street lights sharpen her jaw and deepen the bags below her bright eyes. She smiles a little as she bumps nostalgically into Adora’s side. Catra, she thinks sweetly, looks both alive and exhausted under the stars.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” She swipes at her freckled cheek with her free hand, pulling a face at her friend. 

“It’s nothing,” Adora chuckles, trailing off. _It’s nothing_ she thinks, _I just want to lay down beside you. It’s nothing, I just want to kiss the tension from your face. It’s nothing, I just want to taste the raspberry slushy on your lips._ “Just wondering if you’re cold.” 

It’s a lie- A boldfaced one in the sticky July heat. Adora picks at a hole in the sleeve of her shirt and toys with the loose threads. It’s uncomfortable, the air is so thick that it's hard to breathe, and the mugginess rests square on Adora’s shoulders as she flushes pink. She looks away from Catra before she says something she’ll regret.   
  


Sometimes Catra waits and watches the Brightmoon Rebels practice between classes. Perfuma’s there every time to support her “wonderful girlfriend!” Each time Catra settles on the bleachers, fourth row up with a skateboard in one hand and a bag of food in the other, Perfuma sends a knowing, conspiratory look.

“Fuck,” Catra whispers, digging through the fast food bag for her fries. It pisses her off how easy she is to read. She scratches at her knee through the hole in her jeans, willing herself to be less obvious, to not show her every thought on her face. It’s an impossible task though, when it comes to Adora. 

If Adora was a little less oblivious, maybe she could read the way Catra’s every toothy grin and harsh joke was her way of saying _I love you_. She’s glad Adora’s like this or she would’ve ruined their friendship a long time ago. 

Catra’s halfway through her fries when she thinks she’s got a neutral expression down. That is, until Adora appears in front of her, bounding up the bleachers two at a time, covered in sweat. Her skin glistens under the summer rays and her white tank top sticks against her skin, breath coming out in huffs. Catra’s eyes land on Adora’s bicep, resting for just a moment before she averts her eyes, gulping. 

“Tell me you brought me water, please,” Adora asks her. It takes Catra’s brain a minute to reboot, hands stilled, half way reaching for another fry. She wonders exactly what she did to get someone as beautiful as Adoral in her life. Luckily Adora’s too busy digging through the bad bag for a burger to notice the meltdown situated just behind Catra’s unmatching eyes. “Fine,” Catra smirks, because it’s better than gaping at her best friend’s muscles through her shirt, “I brought you water.” 

Adora’s head snaps up like a Golden Retriever. “Yes! Where is it!” She lets the still wrapped burger fall back into the bag as she slaps her hands onto Catra’s shoulders. 

Adora’s always like this after practices; Clingy, overly-touchy, excited. When they were younger Catra used to wonder if Adora ever got worn out, always beating Catra in games they made up during summer boredom. Catra’s stopped that line of thinking now, at least in public. 

“I lied,” Catra says loftily. Though Adora groans letting her hands slip off Catra’s shoulders, the feeling of the warm pressure stays. It keeps her shoulders squared as a reminder of what she can’t have. “You want my soda, oh Mighty She-ra?”

“Shuut up.”


End file.
